


Solare

by caitydestroyz



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game), The Walking Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Plus-Size Reader, Rating May Change, Reader-Insert, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9667427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitydestroyz/pseuds/caitydestroyz
Summary: Even a well-lit place,  can hide salvation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, lovies!
> 
> I'd just like to inform you that this fic _is_ a spin-off of the Reader from [Losing You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8695483).
> 
>  _Solare_ can be read independently, if you so wish to utilize your own Reader insertion. I have no problem with that! But, I just thought I'd like to warn you beforehand, in case there was any confusion. 
> 
> Of course, this story is, as stated above, an alternate universe, so any similar dynamics from the other reader's life, whether it be familial ties or personality traits are clearly bona fide. However, mind you, there will be differences that will be taken into consideration!
> 
> Additionally, I would also like to point out that, yes, there will be A/B/O dynamics. I will go into great detail as the plot progresses. I'm still making a strong attempt to research as much as I can on the idea, so bear with me, lovies!
> 
> Also, if I'm not updating, I'm most likely [hurr](http://caitydestroyz.tumblr.com) if ya wanna find me!
> 
> Overall, hope y'all enjoy this one! I have another fic in the works, but not for this Fandom, so be on the lookout for a shameless promo for that one, too ;) 
> 
> But, apologies, am rambling! Please enjoy, lovies!❤️

_Pitter, patter. Drops of rain pelt the windowpane in bulk, glossing the view of lights that it's almost impossible to see where the sources were coming from._

  


_Fingertips tapping away on a keyboard filled the room, a mouse clicking on the screen._

  


_A video was being replayed in different slots; different segments. The room the video took place in was aged by rust and marred by years of water damage. Open fluorescent lights flickered above, revealing that their face was sunken in, hair disheveled. Skin etched by years of hard work in the black market, scars gracing their surface as they tried to stay alive._

  


_The being in front of the camera was absolutely exhausted. Their eyes were bloodshot, leading up to the blood caking down their head. Their nose appeared to be broken, following the dried blood that stopped at the top of their upper lip._

  


_The individual tapping away at their keyboard elicited a shaky breath, stray tears trickling down their cheeks._

  


_How many times could they watch this? How long could they torture themselves until they've finally had enough? But, one would make the grand assumption that enough was never enough._

  


_And so they continued watching, internal anguish slaughtering their very soul for what would seem like forever down memory lane._

  


_“We were so in love, once. We had life by the reins. We didn't care what other people thought. It was just you and me, against all odds - against the world. May sound like some sappy love story, living the fairy tale for a happily ever after. But, it didn't turn out that way, did it?_

  


_Things changed. The structures of our society were destroyed and taken over by authoritative figures that harm the weak; the lesser statuses. They're always watching us. They know what we're doing. They know who we're with. They just_ **_know_** _. It scares me, knowing that we can never be happy. We can never have our happy ending. We can never be together. It's not like we ever could.”_

  


_They elicited a breathy chuckle, torn between despair and all-knowing agony that was breaking them down from the inside._

  


_“This isn't like Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. There are no feuding families. There are no lives lost by the forbidden romance between two unrequited lovers._

  


_No poison was consumed, nor was a life lost to the reaper. The easy way out is tossed at the bottom of the pile, ensuring that we never have the chance to out ourselves. Altogether, that would be just damn unrealistic._

  


_Hell, we're so lost in ourselves that we are fathoms and fathoms apart from what we thought we could be - what we could have been. I'm scared. I feel it's too late for me. But, it isn't too late for you. You can survive. You can escape. I know a place. Somewhere safe.”_

  


_Every so often, they would look away from the camera, off to the side. They were trying to find solace in what was left._

  


_“You'll take them away, won't you? Protect them? That's all I can ask of you. Please. Do it for me._

  


_We don't...we don't have much time. So, you have to decide before it's too late for us…please…I love you.”_

  


_The screen faded, and there was no redemption. Just death._

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The sound of water running in a shower stall, a routine wash for the morning start. Its occupant was almost finished, the sound of the knob twisting off to slow the spray to nothing as it began to cool off. Steam had filled the entirety of the bathroom, fogging up the mirror in its wake.

  


It was well past the break of dawn, though save for the few clouds that scattered the purple and peach hues of the sky.

  


_Sizzle. Hiss._

  


The kitchen stove was well underway with a home cooked breakfast, including the coffeepot. Piping hot and ready to be poured into a thermos for a lengthy shift. The sound of the pan frying on a stove top, a mouth-watering aroma of bacon filtering the air with its intoxicating taste. One could just taste it, and it would make anyone go insane just for a taste. Though, not everyone favors the flavor, nor the origin of the delicacy. So, there were always substitutions.

  


That's the funny thing - _substitutions_.

  


One can always substitute one thing for another, if they so please. They could have something they favored, in exchange for something they didn't want nor cared for. That's just how things are, seemingly so.

  


Nevertheless, with a modest home, it surely maintained a hospitable and loveable atmosphere for both parties.

  


A metal spatula pressed against the soft surface of a pancake, as butter was smothered on its bottom to give its tasteful remedy. The same could be said for the bacon and eggs, as toast had sprung up in place from the toaster.

  


“Negan! Hurry up! You're gonna be late!” hollered a feminine voice from the kitchen.

  


From the nozzles being turned, shutting off the water supply, the man stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel from the nearest shelf to wrap around his waist, grabbing another to towel his hair dry. Soon enough, two calloused hands gripped the porcelain sink in the bathroom, attention casted down to the foam and water swirling down the drain.

  


That was his name - _Negan_. What a unique name, that was. A rake over the ashes, one would digress.

  


Inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, his tawny gaze drifted up to the mirror, steam filling out the outer edges whilst droplets of water slithered down its surface as it left in its path.

  


A hand reached up from the sink to rub against the clean-shaven skin under his touch. He felt as if a new slate was made, not only for himself, but for the love of his life.

  


In the society they dwelled in, one would find themselves in one or the other.

  


**_Perfects_** and ~~_Imperfects_~~.

  


One or the other. Never both.

  


Why, one would ask, would there need to be two separate factions that aid the growth of a community?

  


The Perfect district would quote a well-renowned doyen of skilled writing. _Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrusted upon them_. It was just in their blood. They just _knew_ they were made for greatness.

  


_What a load of bull_ , one would say. _A crock of shit_ , another.

  


They are what separates the rags and the riches.

  


Now, as for the Imperfect district, there are a lot of things that can be said about them.

  


_They're the epitome of wrongdoing. They're forever the rags of our society. They're drug dealers. They're black market suppliers. They're low-life merchants, trying to squeeze you out of every penny you're earning. They're whores on the corner of every street, begging for a good, hard fucking. They don't work hard enough. They're the shit under our boots. They're the scum of the earth._

  


But, what really draws everyone together was their statuses. It determines who everyone is - or _was._

  


Omegas were the famed favorites of both districts. They were holes to be filled by lucky johns that found utter content with their hands on likely subs. _Those_ omegas? They're normally the imperfect ones, being used and abused by the perfect alpha Johns. They never chose to go down that path. Some are able to live with the profits they receive. However, those selling their backs have a job to fulfill. Of course, they never do it for free. How can they live under a roof without coughing up their share to their pimp? And if a child was born from the equation, it was either aborted, set up for adoption, or killed. The latter was favored resort, and their rotting corpses would wreak the air with its putrid stench. _One less mouth to feed_ , people would say with belly-aching pride.

  


It wasn't that easy, of course.

  


In other aspects, omegas who aren't on the streets are working their asses off so they could make their ends meet. Every loose end would never be left untied; never forgotten. They were the providers - in all facets of the word.

  


Betas shared a similar stance with the omegas, however they're swept under the rug whenever the chance manifests itself. If an alpha shows their pretty face around, no one stands a goddamn chance.

  


With that in mind, alphas were the overseers of both districts. They held such immense power, that casualties were involved in the series of unfortunate events. They are the soldiers that mediate suspicious activity. They are the sentinels that protected the walls that divide the factions. They are the politicians that created the community that never sees the light.

  


Though, there are other alphas that maintain redeeming factors that soften the blow for what alphas are.

  
  


_Negan_. 

  


A matured alpha, born into the Perfect district by parents who were skilled in fabrication and installation of sheet metal.

  


Nowadays, the walls were being torn down by protesters on both sides, those who yearned for the equality of both factions. Unfortunately, the only method of action to take, by the armed military forces, was to do just that. _By force._ So many bullet casings are spilled, along with raging fires left from lines of C4 detonating the front lines. The amount of victims amongst the rubble filled battlefield is unfathomable.

  


Profits would derive from the statistics of body counts that arise. It proves a point to everyone as to where their loyalties lie.

  


If one wants to resist, then let them resist. Their untimely demises are what funds every single installation that divides them. The wall is ever-growing, as the level of difficulty of breaking down the level of barriers becomes an utter nuisance for the Resistance.

  


That is what the protesters are called: _The Resistance_. History repeats itself, and will continue to do so until everything either falls into place or demolishes the very slate of equality. Resistance fighters gather their arsenals like they're going to war, and the number rises as the fatality rate demonstrates a bona fide example of how dangerous the districts are becoming.

  


If someone wanted to know, Negan's a part of the Resistance. Like his father before him, and so forth. Even though both of his parents took part in building the wall, they knew the layout like the back of their hands. Although there were many Resistance fighters who were sealing their fate at the wall, there were plenty of rats who worked along with them.

  


And that is the reason why the trust amongst the rebels was dwindling down to almost nothing.

  


Fortunately, for now, it would just be another day.

  


Deeming himself sufficient, Negan exited the confines of his bathroom to join his fiancée for breakfast. Before he could cross the threshold, he was met with a sight he would never get tired of. She definitely took his breath away.

  


She stood by the coffee pot, waiting patiently for it to fill up once more. She adorned a cream, bodycon dress as it came down to her mid thigh, defining her legs without question. She tapped the toe of her heel against the black and white, checkered flooring, burgundy matte lips pouting. Her arms were folded against her chest, so she couldn't have stopped Negan when he snaked his arms around her waist.

  


Nuzzling the back of her neck, a wolfish chuckle tickled the back of her neck.

  


“God, you look so _goddamn_ **_beautiful_** , darling _._ Look good enough to fucking eat. Jesus.” From head to toe, the body accentuated every part of her body. From the lift of her cleavage the dress gave her with the Queen Anne neckline, to the way her hips filled the dress perfectly. 

  


_Fuck me sideways_ , he thought to himself. 

  


A playful smirk splayed on the woman's face as she turned around in the man's arms, slipping her lithe arms around his neck.

  


“You're not too bad yourself, daddy.”

  


The way she flicked her tongue out just to tease him drew a breath out of the older man.

  


“ _Oh,_ **_princess_** _. Don't get me fucking started. Wouldn't wanna ruin all your nice work, now would we?”_

  


Her eyes were encompassed by green, a darker shade that was close to a jade stone. Her hair came in waves past her shoulders, dark locks gleaming in the kitchen light. Her makeup was done up to a T, from the winged eyeliner that could cause some serious damage, to the glow on her cheeks that highlighted the perfect bone structure.

  


“Oh no, daddy. Wouldn't want that.” With her heels, she managed to press a chaste kiss on the man's lips. “Besides, daddy's little girl needs to go to work. The medical bay isn't going to run itself.”

  


His hands never left her waist, soon settling on her hips as he smirked.

  


“That's my girl.”

  


  


  


  


  


  


The two enjoyed their meals together, soon parting ways once the dishes were cleaned and thermoses were filled with coffee.

  


Negan had one foot out the door before he felt a vibration in his breast pocket of his black jumpsuit. He pulled out his phone to swipe at his screen, answering the call.

  


“Negan, don't forget! Make sure to pick up my sister and my brother from the compound.”

  


“How can I forget? They're a part of the wedding, too. Don't worry about it, sweetheart. By the way, what are we doing about dinner?” He made sure to grab his hard hat off the hall table and his car keys, soon leaving the apartment to descend the down several flights of stairs.

  


“Hmm, maybe some Chinese takeout? Been craving some sweet and sour chicken, lately.”

  


“Huh. Alright, sounds like a plan. You be safe getting to work, you hear?”

  


“ _Yes,_ **_daddy_** _._ I love you.” The switch from the foreplay to the normal playful banter gathered humor from both parties, as Negan smiled to himself.

  
“Love you, too, Lucille. See ya tonight.”


End file.
